After all of this, I have learned:
There is a light that can only be entered through the dark.
That must be seared into your being through no other way than entering the wound.
Through no other way than internal breaking and shattering and screaming and agonizing and wondering.
Wondering though it all and daring with all false hope for real hope that somehow this blinding light is killing the darkness - because you never thought it would be like this trying to heal.
That the tiny pieces of raw, leftover-you from feeling truly alive before, are still there.
Daring to be felt, demanded to be seen, defying the gravity of that beyond-heavy weight over each pressing moment of the dark wanting to destroy all of it.
You can still breathe in this heaviness.
You have permission to break the neck of the lying cycle of fear.
You can wade through the wreckage that feels like too much in your own timing, because your own timing is never too much.
You can grasp the light by the full force of it, trusting that each moment you choose to fight for it, you already have it.
Know that each moment of relief, hope, anger, frustration, and peace, is your healing.
Know that all this sorting in the dark when you thought the light would stay on, is not in vain.
Know that the terror you keep facing is hurtling you through the dark and into the turning of your life.
Let the searing tear open the dark. Let the dark scream and yearn for covering again and not give into it. Let the light eclipse every part and not miss a single corner.
Dare to believe when you wonder why you chose healing and it still hurts like hell, that the path to a full life is being built in the strength of each step.
This is the line between giving up and giving in.
This is facing each day like it is the day of your healing.
This is the sacred space between the light and the dark.
- RKD
05-08-22